"No, you 'haven't--I'!" Mr. Rooter maintained bitterly. "You just walk down town and go in any Newspaper Buildings down there and tell 'em you got a right to stay there all day long when they tell you to get out o' there! Just try it! That's all I ask!" Florence uttered a cry of derision. "And pray, whoever told you I was bound to do everything you ask me to, Mister Henry Rooter?" And she concluded by reverting to that hostile impulse, so ancient, which, in despair of touching an antagonist effectively, reflects upon his ancestors. "If you got anything you want to ask, you go ask your grandmother!" "Here!" Herbert sprang to his feet. "You try and behave like a lady!" "Who'll make me?" she inquired. "You got to behave like a lady as long as you're in our Newspaper Building, anyway," Herbert said ominously. "If you expect to come up here after you been told five dozen times to keep out----" "For Heaven's sakes!" his partner interposed. "When we goin' to get our newspaper _work_ done? She's _your_ cousin; I should think you could get her out!" "Well, I'm goin' to, ain't I?" Herbert protested plaintively. "I expect to get her out, don't I?" "Oh, do you?" Miss Atwater inquired, with severe mockery. "Pray, how would you expect to accomplish it, pray?" Herbert looked desperate, but was unable to form a reply consistent with a few new rules of etiquette and gallantry that he had begun to observe during the past year or so. "Now, see here, Florence," he said. "You're old enough to know when people tell you to keep out of a place, why, it means they want you to stay away from there." Florence remained cold to this reasoning. "Oh, Poot!" she said. "Now, look here!" her cousin remonstrated, and went on with his argument. "We got our newspaper work to do, and you ought to have sense enough to know newspaper work like this newspaper work we got on _our_ hands here isn't--well, it ain't any child's play." His partner appeared to approve of the expression, for he nodded severely and then used it himself. "No, you _bet_ it isn't any child's play!" he said. "No, sir," Herbert continued. "This newspaper work we got on our hands here isn't any child's play." "No, sir," Henry Rooter again agreed. "Newspaper work like this isn't any child's play at _all_!" "It isn't any child's play, Florence," said Herbert. "It ain't any child's play at all, Florence. If it was just child's play or something like that, why, it wouldn't matter so much your always pokin' up here, and----" "Well," his partner interrupted judicially;--"we wouldn't want her around, even if it _was_ child's play." "No, we wouldn't; that's so," Herbert agreed. "We wouldn't want you around, anyhow, Florence." Here his tone became more plaintive. "So, for mercy's sakes can't you go on home and give us a little rest? What you want, anyhow?"